It Should Have Been Me
by Smackalicious
Summary: Sometimes, this job is too much for all of them. Tag to 12x11 Check. GEN. ONESHOT.


**Title: It Should Have Been Me**  
**Pairing: None**  
**Rating: T**  
**Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Tag, Friendship**  
**Cat: Gen**  
**Spoilers: Tag to 12x11 Check.**  
**Warnings: None.**  
**Summary: Sometimes, this job is too much for all of them.  
****Author's Note: I knew I had to write SOMETHING as a tag to this episode and the idea of Gibbs, Fornell and Vance all sharing this one thing in common really got my muse going. I'm kinda obsessed with the three of them, if you haven't noticed. There may be other fics in the future. For now, have this.**

* * *

When Gibbs tells him about Diane, Tobias is pissed. Gibbs doesn't think he's ever seen someone so angry. And he can't blame him – Diane shouldn't have been there, shouldn't be lying in a drawer at NCIS right now.

But the anger passes as soon as it came and Tobias is inconsolable. He's always been more open about showing his emotions than Gibbs, and it comes as no surprise to the NCIS agent to have his friend collapsed in his arms, sobs wracking his body. He runs his hand over Tobias' now clean-shaven head; Tobias really loved Diane, in spite of all their feuding, and Gibbs hadn't forgotten their reconciliation and how happy they'd both been about it.

"I'm sorry," Gibbs finds himself whispering, knowing the words are a weak balm, but necessary to say. He _is _sorry, because he loved her at one point, too, and there's a part of him that still does and always will. And not only that, but. . . "It's my fault."

That's enough for Tobias to stop sobbing, look up at Gibbs' face, then push against his chest, sending him a foot or so away. "You didn't kill her," he says, lifting a hand to wipe his face. Gibbs opens his mouth to say something else, but Tobias keeps talking before he can. "You don't have to pull the martyr act with me, Gibbs."

Gibbs shakes his head, frustrated. "He won't stop until he's satisfied. Or until someone kills him." He pauses and lowers his voice. "I wish I had."

"That's the last fucking thing you need, another dead body on your hands," Tobias says. He rubs the top of his head. "And there's nothing more I'd like to do than find the bastard and blow his brains out, but I have Emily to think of."

Gibbs closes his eyes. Emily. Another child left without her mother. It was becoming a disgusting trend at NCIS.

"You want me to be there?" Gibbs asks, and Tobias meets his gaze, momentarily confused. "When you tell Emily."

Tobias drops the hand on his head to his mouth, thinking. It's not the type of question you think you'll have to answer – hey, do you want to be alone when you tell your daughter her mother is dead, or do you want the guy who was there when she got shot to be there, too? – but as he's discovered in his long career as a federal agent, it's those questions you usually end up answering.

"Yeah, sure," he finally says. He's not enthused about it, or grateful, just resigned. Someone else may as well be there. They have to go back to NCIS, anyway.

* * *

Emily reacts the way any child would to hearing the news, and Gibbs wishes even more that bullet had been meant for him.

* * *

"You sure you want to do this?"

"I have to, Jethro." It feels like a dream. A nightmare.

"Agent Fornell."

"Director Vance." The thought occurs to him then that these two men know exactly how he feels right now. And maybe he wasn't still married to Diane, but they had been thinking about it again, and now. . .

"How are you doing?" Leon asks.

Tobias shrugs. "Not great." It probably wasn't the response Leon expected, but it's the truth. His voice turns to steel as he approaches the director, shaking a finger. "You're gonna get this asshole, yeah?"

Leon's eyes darken. "He won't hurt anyone else, not if I have anything to say about it."

Tobias hesitates, then nods. He knows it's a promise the director can't keep and more people will probably end up dead before Mishnev is caught, but it's what he wants to hear right now, so he'll accept it for what it is – good intentions.

"Okay," Tobias says after another minute or so of escalating silence. "Let's do this already."

The door to autopsy slides open and the men stare into the darkness before Gibbs turns on the light.

"Turn that off," Tobias orders, and Gibbs obeys, bathing the room in darkness once again. They can still see with the light from the hallway, and Gibbs thinks of the other times he's been in this room just like this. Too many times to count.

"Ducky?" Leon asks.

Gibbs shakes his head. "He knows we're here. Told me which one." He hesitates. "I think Palmer got to him."

Leon nods. It's so quiet in there; the clock's ticking feels like seconds counting down until an explosion.

Gibbs is the first to move to the bank of drawers along one wall and he stops in front of the number Ducky gave him. "Tobias," he says, and tips his head toward the wall.

Tobias walks over, stopping on the opposite side of the drawer, then looks up at Gibbs.

"Ready?" Gibbs asks, and Tobias blows out a breath.

"Not really," he admits, then makes a motion with his hand. "Yeah, okay, do it."

"Tobias. . ."

"It's not gonna get any easier the longer I wait, Jethro." Gibbs can see the other man's eyes shining in the dim light, his own pain reflected in them.

"Okay." And Gibbs opens the drawer, revealing the black body bag. It feels so anonymous, generic, like it could be absolutely anybody under that zipper. But he unzips the bag and it's Diane, the determined, stubborn, passionate woman they'd both found impossible to live with, but impossible not to love.

"Diane." Tobias' voice cracks when he says her name and Gibbs looks away, wanting to give him some sense of privacy. And maybe he doesn't want to see Diane again. It was painful enough holding her in his arms when she died.

Gibbs looks from the figure in the drawer to the door they came in, meeting Leon's eyes. The two men share a look that says far more than words could ever hope to – they both know this pain, the grief, anger, disbelief, every emotion battling against each other.

"It should have been me."

Gibbs and Leon keep their eyes locked, neither responding to his words. There are no insistences that this is how things were meant to be, you can't control fate. They'd both felt the same way at one point, maybe still did in the quiet of night.

"Children need their mothers."

Tobias looks over his shoulder at Leon at those words and there's a spark of recognition in his eyes – Jackie. Leon just went through this himself.

Leon walks toward them, stopping only when he reaches Tobias, and lays a hand on his shoulder. They share a look of understanding, then look back to Diane's body.

Leon lifts his gaze to Gibbs after a few moments and sees the pain on his face. He lost someone today, too. "What can I do for you two?" he asks, and Gibbs gives him a look that's momentarily shocked, but fades into something grateful.

"You're doing it, Leon," Gibbs says, and his eyes relate what he doesn't say – _thank you_.

Leon nods and puts his other hand on Gibbs' shoulder, squeezing it. There's so much that needs to be done here, both personally and professionally, but right now, this is _all _that needs to happen. Three men, connected as much by their jobs as they are the situations in their lives, reflecting on another life ended too soon.

It never ends, but they won't give up, for the sake of their country, their teams, their families, and each other.

Right now, there is nothing but this moment, and they'll hang onto it as long as they can.

**END**


End file.
